Lost
by Nunchi
Summary: 3 years after Voldemort's victory, Hermione loses her memory during a mission against Voldemort & Draco is ordered to question and torture her at any means. Love blossoms in the most unexpected ways.
1. prologue

Lost

By: Deadly Words

Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter series

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Prologue

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She was almost there. In just a few more minutes, she'll be able to accomplish her task. It had taken her a year to discover the secret, the Achilles' heel in Voldemort's strength. And she intended to destroy him, even if it resulted in her death.

It has been three years since the last battle when Voldemort attempted to rise to power for the last time. There had been thousands of death from both sides, including the deaths of Lucius Malfoy, Harry Potter, Elphias Doge, Terry Boot, Gregory Goyle, Minerva McGonagall, Stewart Ackerly, Malcolm Baddock, and most importantly of all, Albus Dumbledore. It had been a shock when the world discovered that Harry Potter and Albus Dumbledore had died in the battle. The prophecy that the Boy-Who-Lived was the only one that can kill Voldemort was false. It was only created based on the fact that Harry had narrowly escaped Voldemort's grip. Her heart felt like it had been ripped out when she heard the news.

There had been others including her that had fought in the war against Voldemort. When the war ended with Voldemort's victory, many of those who survived had went into hiding. The last that she had heard of any of them was of Snape. It seems that he had became Voldemort's left-hand man, and Draco Malfoy, as the right-hand man.

During the three years after the war, the world had erupted in chaos. Voldemort had given himself the title of "King" and the Deatheaters killed whoever and whenever without having to face Azkaban. They killed at least forty people a day – a majority of the deaths being muggles. Many of the victims were found mutilated or had been tortured with whips or with any imaginable weapon that exist.

There had also been a huge change in the way the Wizardry World ran. The Ministry, once a place that tried to prevent Voldemort's return, was now filled with corrupted administrators, all working in the favor of Voldemort. The Aurors, once the protectors of the people, were replaced with Deatheaters. Anyone found to be a traitor to Voldemort were sent to Azkaban. Muggles and Muggle-born wizards were considered as lowly beings – lower class as you can call it. Halfbloods were considered as middle class and the Purebloods were at the top of the social status. Unlike the lower and middle class, there were divisions in the upper class based on wealth and influence.

In just less than a year, the Wizardry World became a monarchy.

"But all that is about to change", she mumbled.

It had been two years ever since she began to plan for this day; two years of research and undercover work as a housemaid in a Deatheater's Manor. She had been able to obtain enough information that would prove necessary for Voldemort's downfall.

She could see the door now. Just a few more steeps. Her heart was pounding with excitement. All her work – everything – was all worth it. In just a few minutes, she'll obtain the power to destroy Voldemort.

For a split second, she had thought that she heard footsteps. She stopped her pace and tried to hear if there were any more. Nothing. A quick scan behind her also provided her with nothing out of the ordinary. It was probably just her imagination.

Or not.

"Crucio."

Everything seemed to go in slow motion. Pain shot through her body, causing her legs to buckle. Kneeling over on the floor, she tried to stand up, but the pain was still raging through her. Quickly, she cased her a look behind her to find a Deatheater, a wand in their hand.

Shit.

In one swift movement, the Deatheater kicked her in the ribs, breaking a rib or two along the way. The kick caused her to fall back and collide with the wall. A loud sickening thud echoed throughout the passage and a small trickle of blood began its trail down the stone wall. The last thing she saw before blacking out was the door. It was right next to her. She was so close… so damn close… but she failed. Everything is lost now and no one will know what she had discovered. The world will now be under Voldemort's control forever…

"I'm so sorry…"

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"Kiss me, m'love…"

The woman smiled seductively as she trailed her hand down his chest. Her arms wrapped around his neck as she ground her hips against his. Every now and then, she would lay butterfly kisses on his face and his neck, but he just sat there, unaffected by her actions. His eyes held no hint of any emotion as he sat there, staring off into the distance.

"M'love… What's wrong?"

In an instant, his hand flew up from the arm of the chair and seized her throat. He began to apply pressure in the area, cutting off her air supply. Her eyes widened in fear as she gasped for breath. His eyes were now focused on her, but they glared at her with annoyance. Taking a moment to watch her struggle for breath, he finally let her go and pushed her off his lap.

"Get out."

"M'love…"

His eyes widened with anger. Why won't this bloody slut just get the fuck out of his manor?!

"I said get the fuck out you little bitch. Or are you just that retarded?!"

"B-But…"

Instantly, he was up from the armchair. He grabbed a handful of her hair, hauling her up from the floor.

"Do you really want to die, my darling?", he sneered. Tears were forming in the girl's eyes, but he didn't care. He was getting pure satisfaction from watching her in pain. Without waiting for a reply, he flung her toward the door and watched her scrambled out of the room. He could've just crucioed her, but he found inflicting physical pain more satisfying then using a wand.

He was in such a foul mood. He just can't believe that – that insufferable old bat made a fool out of him in public! He had no right to test his intelligence AND compare him and his father's stupidity. Him and his father have nothing alike, nor will he ever will. It was only because he was spying for the Dark Lord that he had ever got the position that he has now. He, himself had to work his way up to gain Voldemort's trust. Damn Snape…

"Draco…"

Draco let out a small groan. Not now. After having to deal with Snape and then Pansy, he just wasn't in the mood for some stupid mission. Besides… he didn't feel like doing some task that any other Deatheater can perform. Sometimes, being the right-hand man can be a pain in the ass. The only perks to it was his influence and power.

Knowing that Voldemort does not like to be kept waiting, he rushed before the fireplace and kneeled down before the mist that was beginning to develop in front of him. As the mist thickened, he could see the faint outline of Voldemort's face. After a few seconds, the mist cleared and there before him was Voldemort's head floating in mid air.

"M'lord… What donor do I have to be before your presence?"

"Draco… An intruder was found in the dungeons trying to free one of the prisoners."

Draco frowned at the news. An intruder? In the dungeons?

"I'm rather… interested in how he was able to get through all the wards and Deatheaters there. I'll be putting him in your hands. Find any information that might be useful to us in any means you see fit. Don't disappoint me, Draco."

"Yes m'lord. I will try to find out if there are more people like him."

As soon as he had appeared, his head disappeared before Draco's eyes.

"An intruder, huh?"

A mild hint of interest shone in his eyes as he stared deep into the fire burning in the fireplace. His mind was racing with all the ideas in which he could torture the poor soul until he was satisfied with his work. This might be worth the work after all…

"Hmm… I wonder who it is…"

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A/N: This is the prologue. Hope that you like it!


	2. chapter 1

A/N:

**Sydney-Black** – It was actually intentional. I guess I need to inform everyone a bit what I meant by that… lol

When Voldemort issued Draco the order, he had actually never seen who the intruder was. Thus, this would explain why he used "he" instead of "she". Generally, people tend to use "he" when they don't know who the person in question is.

Ok… This is sort of a dark chapter.

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Chapter 1

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She let out a moan as she woke up with a pounding headache. Her body ached all over as if she had been beaten up. Her sides ached the most though. It felt like something had kicked her there really hard. She can barely move without feeling a jolt of pain at her side.

Slowly, she propped herself up and looked around at her surroundings. She was sitting on a green velvet canopy bed, surrounded by green silk curtains. The bed was seated near the center of the room, the headboard against the wall. The room was dimly lit, but she could still make out some of the things in the room. From the looks of it, the walls were made out of stone blocks and there was a full-length mirror on her right. A desk sat across from the bed and there was a chair placed before it. A door was at the corner between the desk and the mirror and a torch hung on each corner across the bed. Nothing seemed to be at the left of the bed from what she could tell.

"Where am I?"

Her thoughts wandered about, trying to figure out where she was; but all she received was a blank. Her thoughts then wandered to whether she might be at her home, but where? Still her mind drew a blank. Slowly, panic began to rise within her. Why can't she remember? Quickly, she tested herself, trying to figure out who were her parents, where she lived, what school did she go to, who were her friends, and her name. Still, she just drew a blank.

Her mind raced, her eyes wide with panic. She can't remember anything. Her name, her childhood life, her birthday – nothing!

Slowly, her eyes wandered back to the mirror, seeing a young woman staring back at her.

"Who am I…?"

"You do you _think_ you are?"

The voice startled her from her thoughts. Quickly, she scanned the room, looking for the source of the voice. She didn't have to look for the long before an outline of a man took shape toward the right of the bed. Right before her eyes, a dark figure appeared from the shadows of the room. He was dressed in all black, with a cloak hung over his shoulders. His hair went down a little pass his shoulders and it seemed a bit oily. His eyes seemed to pierce though her soul by the manner he was staring at her. He reminded her a lot of a vampire by his appearance.

"Who are you?"

"You don't know who I am?"

She shook her head.

For a split second there, she thought that she saw a smirk appear on his face, but it was gone as soon as it came.

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Never had he imagined that the know-it-all Granger would not even know who _he_ is. After 7 years of having to deal with her annoying remarks, he can now have his sweet revenge. His eyes traveled up and down her frame. She had grown delicious and ripe.

Oh yes. During the war, he knew there would be consequences if he were to betray Dumbledore. But what did that old fool know? He believed that he was helping him defeat Voldemort by providing information on Voldemort's plans. Little did he know that it was just the total opposite; and it was all thanks to his teachings on Occlumency.

He didn't want that calm surreal lifestyle that Dumbledore wished for. It was just not his nature. In that lifestyle, he wouldn't be able to satisfy his sadistic needs without punishment. He would probably go crazy in that environment.

Inwardly, he chuckled. Being a deatheater had really gotten to him. It was part of him now, and he hadn't regretted it one bit.

Now, Voldemort had won the war and he has all the power that he needs. The death of Potter proved that damn prophecy to be just a bunch of rubbish for the hopeless to feed on.

"Who are you?"

Her voice startled him from his thoughts and his eyes once again were glued on to her.

Granger had grown up. No longer was she the scrawny bushy haired know-it-all, but instead, she had developed curves in all the right places and her hair had managed to tame down. It was still frizzy, but at a lower degree. Her eyes still shine with curiosity and her lips still pout when she's confused.

He wants her.

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"Who are –"

"Shut up you silly girl."

Her eyes widened in shock as he snared those words.

Slowly, he started towards her, his eyes boring into hers. Before she knew it, he was at the side of the bed. She felt like an animal in front of a predator. It felt like he would kill her at any moment.

She continued to stare at him suddenly feeling the need to not lose to him. As she continued to stare, she didn't even notice him licking his lips.

"What do you want?"

"This."

In a flash, he had crushed his lips upon hers. It was a brutal kiss – his tongue having already forced its way into her mouth. She tried to push him away, but her hands were pinned under his. His weight kept her in place while he explored her mouth, urging her to respond with his tongue. Tears began to well up in her eyes as she tried kicking and moving him away from her. He wouldn't move. Finally, she kneeled him in the groin and he fell to the side.

Scared, she scurried out of the bed and ran to the door. She tried the lock, but it just won't budge. She was stuck.

"PLEASE! ANYONE! HELP ME!" she cried as she pounded on the door. " PLEASE!"

"So you want to play it _that_ way. Fine", a voice snarled from behind her. She didn't even hear him approach her.

Her heart seemed to pound right off her chest. Quickly, she moved to the right, but was it was to no avail. His arms caged her between him and the door.

"You can't escape, m'dear."

Her mind began to race with ideas of how she can escape this man, but each one seemed unreasonable, much less possible to even try.

While her mind raced, he turned her around and crushed his lips against her again with the more brutal force. He pried her teeth apart and ravaged her mouth savagely, not even bothering to urge her to respond. She tried to fight him back again, but he was prepared. He gripped her arm roughly and before she knew it, he dragged and flung her onto the bed.

"Please… Don't do this. Please stop…"

But he didn't seem to hear her. With reflexes like a cat, he climbed onto the bed and grabbed her waist to prevent her from escaping.

This was like a horrible nightmare – a nightmare that she just couldn't seem to wake from.

"NO! GET AWAY FROM ME!" she shrieked. Before she could scream anymore, his lips crushed against hers for the third time.

Why won't he stop? Why is he doing this to her?

She was sobbing now. His body weight pinned her down against the bed with his body between her legs to prevent her from kneeling him again. She was trapped. Completely hopeless.

His hands began to run all over her body, grabbing her breast momentarily before he grabbed her hair. She could feel his erection pressing against her and that caused her to sob even more.

He wasn't going to stop.

In her mind, she pleads that this would stop. Her mind screamed at the man to tell him to stop, but it was fruitless.

Suddenly, as if some heavenly being heard her pleas, the man stopped and got off her. His eyes squeezed shut as if he was in pain.

"Fuck."

He got off her quickly and prepared to leave. But not without leaving her something behind.

"I'll be back for you."

Just like he appeared in the shadows earlier, he disappeared.

Tears still streamed from her eyes from the recent events. She was almost raped… He had almost raped her… Slowly, she turned to her side and began sobbing into a pillow. Bruises from the man's administrations were beginning to appear on her arms. She didn't even bother to notice that he left. Instead, all she could think about was how filthy she felt and how lost she was.

Her first memory became the one that she most wants to forget…

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A/N: Here's the next part! Oh gosh… some of you probably want to kill me right now for making Snape a total prick. It just seems to make his character more… dark. I have nothing against him though! 


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